


"You Ready to Have Some Fun?"

by RosaClearwater



Series: "Hello, Finch." [6]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: AUs for the win :3, F/F, He's just not gonna win this one, M/M, Poor John, au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaClearwater/pseuds/RosaClearwater
Summary: “I hope you like your eggs mildly congealed.” That kind of sass at this early hour could only mean one of two things:Either John was a lot more late than he realized or he had forgotten something that Harold deemed important.(... Or both.)“Harold, I--” That’s when he spots them, trailing off in disbelief.They’re chatting in the back corner. The brunette’s got her hand on a milkshake and French toast, the darker haired one is destroying her steak and eggs. They appear to be oblivious to him and Finch, content to focus solely on breakfast.Of course, even if that’s true that doesn’t mean jack._._Or, the one where Shoot unashamedly crashes a breakfast date.





	"You Ready to Have Some Fun?"

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back? ;D

“I hope you like your eggs mildly congealed.” That kind of sass at this early hour could only mean one of two things:

 

Either John was a lot more late than he realized or he had forgotten something that Harold deemed important.

 

(... Or both.)

 

“Harold, I--” That’s when he spots them, trailing off in disbelief.

 

They’re chatting in the back corner. The brunette’s got her hand on a milkshake and French toast, the darker haired one is destroying her steak and eggs. They appear to be oblivious to him and Finch, content to focus solely on breakfast.

 

Of course, even if that’s true that doesn’t mean jack.

 

“Yes, _John_?” There’s a sharp bite in that tone that demands immediate attention. Naturally, John forces his gaze back to the unusually snippy man before him, who looks at though he could use a good night’s rest.

 

(Apparently, Harold's latest puzzles are no longer “relevant” to any of his usual magazines, and so it’s been a stressful last few weeks to say the least.)

 

“Sorry. Thought I recognized someone.” Well, really, he recognized both of them. But, he doesn’t want Harold to think they’re surrounded or in imminent danger.

 

In any case, there’s a shift in the mood at that: instead of delivering his prepared sarcastic remark, Harold straightens up, resists the urge to crane his body around to look, and attempts to focus on his bacon.

 

(Eggs Benedict used to be his regular order at diners... until he started teaching John his personal recipe.)

 

“Would this be someone from your previous line of work?” The man almost misses the question, having been intent on studying the women as discreetly as possible.

 

“Of a sort.” He fully focuses on his reclusive sweetheart, who’s now radiating concern. “But, they’re not a threat.”

 

_At least, last time I checked…_

 

"Well, that is _quite_ reassuring." Even with the hints of frustration flowing strongly this morning, Harold's still picking up his fork and knife once more. It reminds John that, for all that the recluse doesn’t know, he still makes a point of giving him full trust.

 

Now, in the ex-vigilante’s opinion, the most likely possibilities are that these two just wrapped up a job and wanted food or are currently staking someone out.

 

A quick glance around the room tells John that it’s probably the former.

 

In any case, he can’t shake the feeling he’s somehow involved.

 

_._

 

“How’s the steak, sweetie?” There’s a piercing glare that rises through the hastily splattered ketchup and remnants of egg. “That good?”

 

_._

 

“Do you want to leave, John?” The ex-vigilante doesn’t, not really. Yes, he’s on edge and he’s not in the mood to deal with more unknowns like these two. But he’s also hungry and this is the first time they’ve been able to meet in days.

 

(And, if they leave now, that only draws more attention. And potentially lets these two women follow them back to Harold’s. And that is something that is _not_ an option.)

 

“No, it’s okay.” A quirked eyebrow reflects the recluse’s opinion on it being “okay”, but the puzzle maker thankfully doesn’t voice the concern.“Maybe we can head out in a few minutes. Head to a park or something.”

 

The eyebrow lowers knowingly, an understanding twitch of the lips taking its place.

 

“That sounds like a great idea.”

 

_._

 

It’s around the time the steak is properly demolished that Root finally acknowledges the couple. She does so with a playful smirk, leaning forward as she mischievously whispers her plan in her companion’s ear.

 

They’ve got some time for a little fun.

 

_._

 

John goes to pay the bill and to get the to-go boxes after ten more minutes of attempting to eat. He didn’t want to leave Harold alone, but the man in question was experiencing some unexpected hip pain and Bear would still be with him.

 

He doesn’t have an interest in packing up his eggs, but he doesn’t want to waste the food.

 

(It’s certainly an understatement to say that they were only _mildly_ congealed.)

 

He keeps his eyes on Harold and Bear, in the full-protective-ex-vigilante mode where kneecaps aren’t safe from somehow getting damaged.

 

“Do you some large or small to-go boxes, hon?” The waitress is sweet, almost motherly, as she takes the cash.

 

She’s also the frustrating reason he has to look away for what had to have been just a moment.

 

(Clearly a tactical mistake.)

 

_._

 

“Excuse me, but are you from around the area?”

 

Harold freezes, not knowing why someone would be talking to him -- especially only once John left. He slowly swivels in his seat, noticing Bear tensing up as he does so.

 

But it’s only a kind looking woman who seems as though she couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone work in John’s previous line of business.

 

“Why, yes, I live nearby.” She smiles at this, and he can’t help but reciprocate -- starting to relax. After all, after turning around he noticed a storm cloud of a figure in the back corner. If anything, _that_ woman would be the one John would be paying attention to.

 

“Well, you see,” The brunette before him almost comes off as sheepish, and Harold suddenly wants to reassure her that any question or concern she has is perfectly valid. “It’s just that my partner and I are new to town, and, well, we were just looking for the local library.” His smile only grows at this as his eyes glow in appreciation.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes.” She appreciates his growing enthusiasm, nodding in response. “I absolutely _love_ libraries, and Sameen has a thing for books -- even if she doesn’t admit it.”

 

“Oh, I know _exactly_ what you mean.”

 

_“Really?”_

 

_._

 

_Damn it, damn it,_ **_damn it._ **

 

“Harold!” It was supposed to be a smooth warning, a whispered purr-like sound that would alert them both to his presence.

 

Unfortunately, the sound had translated into a mangled almost-squeak.

 

“You must be John.” The woman spoke coyly, and he was convinced she was absolutely smirking beneath that innocent smile.

 

“John, what is it?” It seems whatever conversation had occurred within the last few minutes, Harold’s already enthralled -- judging from the fact that he’s still focused on the brunette.

 

“... I’ve got the to-go boxes.” She giggles at this awkward encounter and John wants to scream.

 

He doesn’t know what just happened, he doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he _does_ know he doesn’t like any of this.

 

“That’s great, John. Would you be so kind as to pack up the food?” He begrudgingly does so, refraining from glaring daggers at their latest companion.

 

“So, you were saying you know where the local library is?”

 

“Yes, and we can even walk you there if you’d like!” The eggs somehow end up on the floor at this -- sending thickened mush in the direction of John’s shoes. “Oh dear, what a mess!”

 

“That’s alright, I’m sure _John_ can clean it up.”

 

“Well, I’d appreciate it--”

 

“Napkins? Coming right at you!”

 

“You’ve got the morning off, right, John?”

 

“Yeah--”

 

“This morning would be absolutely _perfect,_ Harold!” His eye twitches. “While we love getting lost in a new city, a guide is always appreciated. And it just so happens we also have the morning off!”

 

“New to town?” A demure and sickeningly sweet smile shines at this and John wants to kick the eggs in her direction.

 

“As I was explaining to Harold, we just arrived a few months ago. But, of course with any transition, we’re now just getting to exploring the town. Isn’t that right, Sameen?” Both she and Harold turn in the direction of the other woman, who looks to be as uninterested as John is displeased.

 

“Whatever.” The monotonous word shoots across the room, and Harold’s friendliness diminishes a tad at the sound.

 

“Don’t mind Sam, she’s a little shy.” Disinterest morphs into dislike from the back corner, something that would have made the ex-vigilante smirk -- if not for the fact that he really just wanted to whisk Harold away from all of this. “Shall we then?”

 

“Let’s!” By this point, the recluse is oblivious to the fact that the to-go boxes have been abandoned. He’s also completely unaware of John’s borderline ire.

 

And, all of that -- as irritating as it was -- could have been fine.

 

That is, had it not been for Sameen _immediately_ stealing Bear’s attention once she dragged herself over to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, they were going to have to properly meet at some point! ;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed that and have a nice day :)


End file.
